


paper hearts

by blvckcat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Female Reader Character, Friends to Lovers, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Plot, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Repressed Memories, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Burn, Vignettes, Young Genji, Young Hanzo, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blvckcat/pseuds/blvckcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I love you,” he says, but you don't believe him.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Behind every prosperous celebrity-meets-debutante noble family is a well-hidden network of bribes, scandals, and dirty, dirty secrets.  The media adores you as the mysterious, oh-so “precious princess” of the Taira Family— but will never know that you’re next in line to rule a centuries-old clan of assassins who found their modern niche in the illegal arms manufacturing scene.  They're too distracted fawning over the rich and famous, after all.</p><p>One such distraction is called Genji Shimada.  And Genji Shimada is really, <i>really</i> good at landing both you <i>and</i> his sorry ass in the tabloids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2057

At the break of dawn you load a barrel, empty shells clinking melodically against the tile floor.  Heads turn to, then turn away; they don't dare to look— for there's warm, tranquilizing honey in your minesweeping gaze, and a toxic type of regal in the way you walk like royalty— for you're the subject of so many hushed whispers upon cautious lips.  There are some admiring, some fearful, all judgmental.  

At night, you're a proper maiden.  And much to your dismay, you dream of everything.

 

 _“Hey, doll-face!Eyes over here, give us a lovely smile for the camera!”_  

_You want to scowl instead, just for him._

 

The public eye is an interesting sphere of influence for the Taira-Shimada power play to inhabit, unlike any business transaction ever seen.It’s garish and it does anything _but_ get to the point.It’s a world full of fake half-smiles and roundabout deflections as questions answer other questions; and at the naïve age of fourteen it’s difficult to dissect and understand.But the young are resilient, and you are adaptable.

_“Pay him no mind.  Keep your head down. _”_  _

You survive just fine, but you always wonder why your parents didn’t just leave you home.You have no say in the way your father offers little beyond his enigmatic statements.You have no interest in their constant questions about his future as a famous, almost faceless investor, about your mother’s collaboration for a modern _yukata_ line.

_“You cannot allow them to see your face, do you hear me?  Keep.  Your.  Head.  Down.”_

Your father has been on your case about actually listening to everything for the longest time, but they’re empty words that mean nothing because of repetition; words that paint prosperous pictures about the future blossom of infrastructure under Taira and Shimada contributions, of successful collaboration with the mayor, of the famous dinner you’re about to have on New Year’s Eve to celebrate the passing of their plans. You know to recognize the PR move, using the date as a symbol for progress to come.  But everything else rushes by in bits and pieces and you don’t pay attention.

_“Because the second they see your face, they have something against you.”_

The adults make small talk with equally small smiles, chopsticks hovering over their meals.  Hanzo and Genji know not to speak too, only listen.  The three of you politely pick off extravagant portions of fatty tuna and cuts of _kobe_ beef.   You always finish before your parents at times like these.And while waiting, the three of you had always made a game out of communication through mouthed words, sneaky signals, and the occasional muffled snickers for when adults start to catch on.There are only two players now.

You glance to the side and meet the gaze of one Genji Shimada.  He is fifteen and counting, winning boyish smile and all.  His black hair is sticking out on all sides like an explosion; their poor maid, Haruka, probably gave up on taming it.  It clashes humorously with his formal attire. 

You stick out a bit of your tongue at him through your teeth.The motion does not go unnoticed, and Genji’s celebrity smile shifts into more of a taunting smirk.

He elbows Hanzo Shimada, greeting his brother with a raised, suggestive brow.Hanzo glances over with the same dark amber eyes before snorting, revealing little.He’s so stoic now, compared to his sibling.You suppose that’s the price of being heir, of being firstborn— a burden the both of you share.His posture is much more like yours but even straighter— if that's even possible— and while he has a much more serious aura, where his brother is approachable he is regal. 

Hanzo’s current image is of an intimidating elegance you don’t really want to shatter (because it seems like he’s actually listening to the way both your fathers string sentences together), but you’re so, _so_ bored.   _Rope him into the game,_ you think, _and maybe you will succeed this time_.   You wink at him.It’s a teasing gesture that Genji has been constantly pushing you to do for nearly half a decade.Hanzo simply sighs and rolls his eyes, but even as he looks elsewhere you can’t mistake the disgruntled smirk he's failing to fight down.Genji is left snickering quietly as your attention flits back towards the confused expression on your mother's visage.  You look at her with a smile so smug you half want to punch yourself in the face. 

**✂ - - - - - - - - -**

When you return home you return to the sound of loud, shameless laughing coming from the common area balcony, the one that overlooks the city.It’s nowhere near the stroke of midnight, and the fathers are already getting drunk.It’s a wonder how these men are the same as the personas they present, with crinkling crow’s feet and prominent dimples adorning the smiles that the public never sees.It’s a wonder how one of them is even your own father, as he smiles freely in a way _you_ never see.But you’re thankful for the noise in place of the usual pristine silence.It makes things lively, and most importantly, it keeps parental attention off you.You giggle while imagining how disastrous the situation is going to be when it’s finally time for the grown men to shuffle away from the commons in a babbling stupor.Makes for low-risk, high-reward pranking targets.

“What do you think?” you offer, raising a brow at Genji.He purses his lips.

“I… would not know,” he admits.“For once, at least.What a surprise, ha?”He grins.

“That you know nothing?” you say, smiling wider.“Please, no.Not at all.”

“ _Kuso_.That stings, [First].”

“What, are you offended?”You smile even more, a cheeky grin to rival his.“I am just being a good girl.I was taught to tell the truth.”

“And I was taught that if one does not have nice words to say, they should not say anything at all,” he retorts.“I suppose the both of us are always rule-breakers, then, aren’t we?” 

“Aw, how dare you.I am not a liar.”You are most definitely a liar.

“Yes, yes,” Genji sighs, but he does not fight his unrelenting smile as he rolls his eyes.“You are an absolute angel, [First], a saint, really.You are always a saint.In any case—” he nods towards the fathers— “I hate to say it, but I think this time we may be out of material.”

“No supplies?” You mentally took inventory of some of the random objects throughout your home.“Hmm, maybe we are.I think by the time we are set up, they will be sober.And more likely to punish us.”

“And we already got them believing they were pregnant— again.”

“We already convinced them we were adopted…”

“Ha, that was great,” Genji snorts.His smile is wide and charming with his boyish dimples, and both your eyes light up at the shared memory.“Although I do not know if I should be hurt about the jokes of returning us.”

You laugh.“Harmless, I am sure.Do not overthink it.”You always overthink it.“Oh, but maybe we could—”

“No, I do not think so.It is somewhat risky.What if—”

“But that is so lame.I think—”

“You think mine is lame?  That one is the oldest trick in the book!  We cannot—”

“Genji, please,” you sigh.“Your tricks are faltering.  What do you even do in your free time anymore?”

He shrugs.“Training.Target practice.”

“Target practice?” you echo, raising a brow.Your expression brightens a bit in interest.“You never told me Shimada Castle has a shooting range.”

“A shooting range?”  Genji’s countenance shifts a bit in confusion.  “We do not.  What do you mean by a shooting range?”

“Wha— _wait_ — do not tell me,” you breathe, smile wider than ever.Finally, you have some ammunition over the younger Shimada.“You have never heard of a _shooting range_ before?”

“I _have_ ,” he chimes indignantly.“Just was not sure what you meant.”

“It means exactly what it means.Does that mean you have never shot a gun before?”

Genji falls silent.His expression is noticeably pouty.

“You have _never_ shot a gun before? _The_  Genji Shimada—”You repeat, more incredulously this time.

“Yes, yes, shush.Now quiet down about it, would you?”He huffs.“It is not like Hanzo has either.”

Of course he hasn’t.You sigh and rest your head in a hand, half laughing, half contemplating how downright stupid the Shimadas can be sometimes, for a clan of assassins and all.  All this intensive ninja training and their sons don’t even know how to shoot a gun?Sure, they are noisy (maybe a bit too noisy for your liking), but you had always been under the impression that of the two families, the Shimadas are the more modern ones who keep up with the times.Shurikens might be slightly outdated; although there is an advantage in a weapon that can be recovered, not reloaded, in a weapon that is not easy to use to an untrained enemy.Your clan has been training you in both. 

“I can change that.” you chime, mischievous smirk evident on your features.You really hope Hanzo flinches at the kick-back.

“ _[First]_ ,” Genji groans, because he knows that smirk all too well.It’s usually a warning sign for ideas-that-seemed-really-good-at-the-time-but-maybe-not-great-in-hindsight situations or the next moment you two get yourselves figuratively beheaded.But at least they have been fun, so he just sighs in defeat at the sight of your hopeful, shimmering eyes.“ _…Yes, yes…_ ” 

 

 …Hanzo, however, does not have as compliant of a reaction. 

“Come on, brother,” Genji taunts. “Don't tell me that you are scared.”

You glare at Genji and attempt to cut in before Hanzo can bristle at the challenge.

“Please?” you whine, visibly pouty.His features soften, tinted by curiosity.Your instincts with him are still sharp, you note, for you had made a point of appealing to the side of him that desires to master everything. 

Hanzo parts his lips to speak, but at that very moment something decides to shatter, and you mutter Genji’s signature swear to whatever form of fate is listening.The older brother snorts at that.You spend so much more time around males your age, it’s a wonder you’re not cruder.

“Do not be mistaken, [First], I appreciate the offer,” he half-says, half-sighs. Loud cursing over a broken sake bottle can be heard from the commons.  He pinches the bridge of his nose, and his voice starts to edge more towards a growl.“But I sense that I will be the one who must assume responsibility when these two finally find it upon themselves to sober up.”

He offers a short, sheepish chuckle.“Whether I want to or not.  Maybe next time.”

“But this is one of the few times you are not busy.”

“Perhaps, but—”

“Hanzo, I hardly see you anymore.”

His tone is slightly exasperated.  “I apologize, but somebody has to make sure they do not fall off the balcony, [First].  Next time, I promise.”

You relent and sigh, then shoot back a nod and a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.Genji doesn’t speak.Because although he’s disappointed that he can’t watch Hanzo be a piece of work towards a piece of work, he knows he’s right.He knows how their father gets when drunk.He knows how _your_ father gets when drunk.Actually, you all know.You all know a little too well. But that doesn’t stop you from being a little bitter as you turn away.

You're so bitter that even when you lead Genji down to the mini-warehouse by the range, you barely notice how empty it is.  There's a plexiglass case you've become accustomed to unlocking, because it holds the final prototype of a rifle you had helped design.  You know the notches of its endless locks intimately; but even after you graze your fingers over it and a surface that protects nothing, you forget what you're here for.  The lack of a rifle goes unnoticed.  

You’re still too busy fixating on the killed opportunity of it being just like old times— before Hanzo had forgotten how to smile.

 


	2. This Ain't A Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entire time Genji does not know how to break the heavy silence. The hairs on the back of his neck rise at the less-than-pleased aura you seem to be exuding, as he keeps his dark amber gaze on anything but you. He raises an eyebrow at the empty warehouse you’ve led him to and sarcastically wonders if this suspicious area will soon be a crime scene. But Genji bites his tongue and holds the joke back, because he knows you’ll retort about making it one if he doesn't keep it to himself.

_“Make your mark— but never leave it.”_

The warehouse is dim, it’s musty, and you’re still struggling to access a centerpiece that isn’t there.

_“For there is a time and place to teach a lesson and leave destruction in your wake.”_

 

“Alright, [First], I cut you slack, but soon I will have no choice but to think you are losing your mind.”

Gentle fingers pull at your chin, and tear your blank gaze away from the glass.The next time you blink, there’s warm amber encased in irises that flicker with amusement and… concern?You tense up a bit at the proximity, then tap your nails against the locks once, twice. 

“What?” Your voice is light, airy.The response is unfocused, absentminded.He smirks, just a little. 

“Is my brother really taking up so much of your headspace?” Genji half says, half scoffs— but much to your surprise, there’s quite a bit of hurt in his incredulous tone.“So much that you spend minutes opening a case that contains nothing?”

“He is _not_ — wait, _nothing_?” You start.Your attention flits down to your hands, and much to your disdain, the case is indeed empty.You pace around the glass because maybe you missed something, maybe it’s your imagination but— still empty.Somehow that had escaped you, and you suppose that with the subpar lighting, it’s easy to be mistaken.Especially since you had been too busy holding grudges to pay attention.You mentally punch yourself in the face.

Genji half-sighs, half-laughs.“And here I thought you were the smart one.”

“Keep talking, I dare you,” you scoff.“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Honestly, [First], I had no idea what you were trying to do,” he says matter-of-factly.“I have never been in this part of Taira Castle before.” 

You tap your nails against the glass, twice, three times.The _entire warehouse_ is empty.How can you be so oblivious?You chew at your lip, pace, tap your nails three times, four.It isn’t uncommon for prototypes to be passed around for inspection— but the one encased had been the final one.Not to mention— “ _Chikushou_ ,” you breathe.“An entire shipment’s worth of arms cannot just _go missing_.”

Genji’s countenance immediately grows serious.“What?An entire—?! _Kuso_ …They were here yesterday, were they not?”

“Yes— no— maybe?  I do not know, I had no chance to check,” you sigh.  “But it is half my weapon by design.  So I was told that it should not be going anywhere any time soon.”

“And I do not understand why a shipment would go out on a holiday,” he mutters.  “There are too many distractions.”

 _Too many distractions…?_   You tense, tap against against the glass, then… stop.  Your stomach sinks.The words process and re-process, trigger a surge of recollections regarding recent events, and leave cold and dead dread surging through your veins because you realize— _we are at our most vulnerable._   Your fingernails start to leave tiny crescent-moons in the palms of your hands.  Hours had been spent meticulously drafting every second, every word of the New Year’s P.R. move.How many staff members, how many _guards_ had requested leave for the holiday?Far too many, you thought, _far too many_.Not to mention the perfect icing on a disastrous cake— two iconic patriarchs of clans both famous and infamous are sitting ducks in the castle and _drunk_.   You feel a pang of guilt, and you mentally thank Hanzo.Maybe he had noticed the lack of staff.Maybe he had possessed the foresight you didn’t. 

But it still doesn’t make any sense. 

Your father scrutinizes every detail, demands perfection, nitpicks, and prepares for scenario after scenario after scenario.He would never make a slip, and especially not a slip so _stupid_.

And if somebody really is planning something, and had stolen the shipment, how would they have managed to sneak an entire warehouse of arms out without anybody noticing?

“Nothing adds up,” you murmur.  You tap your nails against the glass, four times, five.“Absolutely nothing.”

You notice Genji out of the corner of your eye and briefly wonder when he got there; he’s crouched, with an elbow on an upright knee, staring intently at the floor— examining for clues, you presume.  He sighs.  “Do you at least have an idea where they could be?”

You immediately shake your head.“No, not— actually,” you say with a small smile growing on your lips.  His words remind you of the prototype process you'd undergone not too long ago.“I implemented a tracking function.In case the user loses the rifle or gets separated from allies who may be wielding the same model.Of course, it can be switched off if the tracking device gets in the wrong hands.  Cool, right?”Pride begins to flow into your words at the talk of designs you’d poured your heart into.

Genji raised a brow.“And if they had switched it off?What then?”

“They cannot possibly switch off every single rifle in such a large shipment,” you retort.“Honestly, I would be very impressed if they did.”

He snorts, but still gazes at you with an incredulous expression.  Then he sighs, shaking his head.  “Whatever you say, [First],” he murmurs, chuckling a little.  “Whatever you say.”

**✂ - - - - - - - - -**

You find yourself desperately trailing behind Genji and the timid _tic-tic-blip_ of a final-prototype holographic navigator. _Your_  final-prototype holographic navigator.That’s in _his_ hands.

“Genji, are you insane?!”

“Criminally insane,” he shoots back over his shoulder with a winning smartass smirk.  The sight of his dimples is suddenly very irritating.

“You cannot just— just run into a suspicious part of town, and in _formalwear_ no less, attempting to track down an entire shipment’s worth of arms,” you hiss. 

He slows a little then stops, and completely swivels one-eighty to look at you.“[First], you have enough information to pursue, and you are not going to chase it?It’s almost as if I care more about this than you do.”

You cross your arms and scoff incredulously.  Those are _your_ rifles.  You want them back more than anything, and are slightly disgruntled that Genji imply otherwise.  “I have the smarts to know not to run into a potential suicide mission blind.”

“You wanted to track your rifles, did you not?” he half-sighs.He raises an inquisitive brow.His lips are twisted at the beginnings of a scowl.“I believe this is what detectives call a trailhead.And if we do not act, it will run cold.”

“I know, I know, they might move,” you fret, fighting to keep a tough front.  Because you know that if the perpetrators are smart, it's not a matter of whether or not they _might_ move— it's that they _will_ move.  They will definitely move.  Your arms drop to your sides defeatedly.   “I have my share of bad ideas, but this one makes it sound like you are throwing caution to the wind.”

Genji knows he has your points cornered the second you falter, and his expression softens.“Think of it as… reconnaissance.”He extends a hand.  You slowly take it, but not until after a few moments of visibly pouting and sulking at him.He simply laughs a little in response.It’s contagious, because you can’t help but crack a smile too, as the rough kevlar of his gauntlet traces over the unique topography of your palm.“If it will make you feel better, we can attempt to find more practical attire for this purpose.”

“There should be extra guard uniforms lying about,” you murmur.You’re still pouting slightly to mock him.“You would look stupid otherwise.Who runs around beating people up in a tailored suit?”

He chuckles.  “Vintage British spies, apparently.”

“Blasphemy.” 

The single word lingers like a hiss on your lips before the both of you burst into a fit of laughter.You’re still stifling giggles with your free hand as you start to tug him with you.But you’re not so much guiding Genji as you’re dragging along a snickering mess, all bright eyes and dimples and stolen breaths.The timid yet constant _tic-tic-blip_ of your navigator is temporarily drowned out.And as you lead the both of you closer to the storage unit for extra guard suits, the red diamond that indicates your location starts to blink slightly farther away from the huge cluster of neon lights.You glance past Genji and briefly glimpse at the holographic map.On the ten-mile radius it’s currently displaying, the supposed rifle signals all ping repeatedly near a single point not three miles away.It’s closer than you had thought, and you begrudgingly admit that they’d probably be farther later.The lights continue to pulsate, as if to feed the urgency, when suddenly there’s a familiar voice that makes you jump for the off switch on the navigator.

“[First]!I have been looking everywhere for you,” huffs an approaching, svelte young man.A small, relieved smile tugs at his lips, and his eyes— your eyes— are so expressive.Judging by the furrow of his brow, he’s only slightly disgruntled.

“Cousin,” you chirp, voice strained.You quickly retract the arm that had switched off the navigator— the one that had been across Genji’s torso.Thanks to your cousin’s silent approach, your body had been startled into a state so tense that you have to remind yourself to jump back to a more natural pose.Genji seems to catch on immediately; he drops your hand and slips the navigator in a pocket.Even though everything happens in less than two heartbeats, your cousin is a few years older, a few years faster, and a few years wiser.It takes him a moment, but soon he raises an appraising eyebrow at the both of you. 

“…Right.Well, it is a few hours early, but the lot of us wanted to set off our own fireworks,” he continues.“I was going to ask if you wanted to come along.”

“I apologize, but Genji and I already have something planned,” you reply vaguely and curtly.The tone of your voice is still as tense as you are; you struggle to maintain steady eye contact with your cousin, as the evaluation in his gaze only intensifies.You immediately glance away.He most likely doesn’t know about the shipment, you decide, because he would have made a point to let you know and recover it otherwise.You consider recruiting him for the reconnaissance efforts; but everything that goes through him, goes through your father.And if it so happens to be nothing, a waste of time, if it appears as if you are the one who had lost it, then the end-result would always be a lose-lose situation in the eyes of the Taira patriarch.You hope you’re as dismissive as you wish to be under his scrutiny, and tap your nails against your arm five times, six.“Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” he says matter-of-factly, smile waning.He steals a glance in Genji’s direction, as if he had finally recognized his presence next to you.“But you know that you are assigned to the young master Hanzo and not the other Shimada, correct?”

You flinch at the words. 

“The _other_ —” Genji practically bristles, gritting his teeth.“ _I have a name._ ”

Your cousin shoots him a withering glare.“If you have ever read the classics, you would know that the namesake of a playboy exile is nothing to be proud of.”

“Cousin, _stop_ ,” you hiss as you raise an arm in front of Genji, who had been entirely ready to throw the first punch.He glances between you and your relative and opens his mouth as if to protest— but he doesn’t, and simply fumes and scowls instead. 

“I was taught to tell the truth.”Nevertheless he nods once, albeit disdainfully.“And the truth is that I am a little worried about your apparent taste.”

You grit your teeth in exasperation.“You know I love you, _cousin_ , but I would rather you mind your own business just this once.”

“I am simply looking out for the clan,” he sighs as he walks away, then glances pointedly in the Shimada’s direction.“Hands to yourself, lover-boy.”

Genji’s voice is a low growl.“ _Shinjimae._ ”

You shoot him a chastising look, but otherwise stay silent.Despite Genji’s cutting gaze, he remains vigilant.He’s still seething; but he’s no longer coiled and ready to strike.You start to lower the arm that had served as a barrier the second your cousin’s svelte figure disappears from sight.Your shoulders immediately drop afterwards, and you release a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Believe me,” you start talking after he walks out of earshot.“He can be a fun person, and is usually a lot better than that.I apologize.”

“Don’t,” he huffs, gazing off towards where his aggressor had gone with a steely expression.“He will, personally, if I run into him again.”

You snort, then nod at the hand that’s still in his pocket.“Please do not punch my cousin.It is bad for business.” 

He hands the navigator to you and the _tic-tic-blip_ returns as a background constant.Satisfied with the sound, you lead the way to the guards’ quarters storage unit in pursuit of suitable reconnaissance attire.As you walk, you study the neon lights that pulse with their own heartbeat, and silently thank fate when it appears that they have not moved.

“I can promise I will not punch him.  I cannot promise anything else,” he deadpans.   

You look back over your shoulder.“ _Genji_ ,” you plead at him, dragging his name out exactly half a second longer.Almost immediately you start to pout a bit.

“Oh no, [First].  Do not _‘Genji’_ me, because your puppy face will not work this ti—” He purses his lips, disgruntled, and you hear a distinct rumble deep in his throat akin to rolling thunder, to a young dragon’s soft growl.  It had worked this time.  You do not even try to hold down a wide smile.

“ _Fine._ ”

“Weak,” you tease, giggling. 

“Yes, yes, my only weakness, whatever,” he grunts, rolling his eyes.He rubs at high cheekbones that are ever-so-slightly redder than they had been just a second ago.“Just hurry before I change my mind.”

“Yes, yes,” you chime, voice lilting in mockery.You simply laugh more at his exasperated gaze, as you lead him to the place where the two of you trade silk for kevlar.

The uniforms are dark and lightweight, yet suitably tactical, not perfectly fitted but not ill-fitted.The sportswear-based material feels gentle on your bare skin, and you feel a twinge of comfort at the feel of traction on your palms and shurikens at your side.There’s a wave of relief as you pull up the matching fabric mask over your nose.You had never thought much about this safeguard for protecting guards’ identities until now, when it directly benefits you.

You’re tucking your formalwear in the storage area, out of plain sight, when Genji rejoins you.You can only assume he’s hidden his suit somewhere else as well, as his hands are instead preoccupied with equipping his gauntlets over the uniform.He gives you a short nod of affirmation and you’re somewhat amazed at how easily the two of you slip by the guards when you set out.There is no interrogation reserved for those that look just like them.

**✂ - - - - - - - - -**

The night air is cold, but not too cold— just enough to chill, to nip at your exposed skin, but not enough to bite.

There’s still liveliness, a dull hum of chatter in the form of car horns, exhaust, and crowded murmurs.  There’s always liveliness; Hanamura is a city that never sleeps.But the ambient noise is at a comfortable distance, for Taira Castle is a building that’s aloof towards its more modern neighbors. With a huff you pull out the navigator and thumb the switch on the small device.Before your eyes the billowing, white mist of frozen breath is out-shined by technologic blue.The _tic-tic-blip_ returns, and while you’re thankful that the neon lights have not budged, you really wish that you can shut the noise off.Because, you know, it’s a stealth mission, and that noise should _really_ be shut off.You make a mental note to include the function in the next model.  

You’re constantly monitoring the holographic display that’s at home with the hues of the city lights.The red diamond blinks every so often, sluggishly updating the location that trudges along the ten-mile map.As far as you can tell, the neon signals are leading you to one of the many forgotten areas of Hanamura.The assumption is only confirmed as you observe the progress both of you have made in comfortable silence— the gradient of a lava-lamp colored, broken looking-glass metropolis into the dull, dark monochrome of green overgrowth and urban decay.

“[First],” Genji says, half-startling you from your trance.Thanks to your conditioned instincts, you had identified the sudden change as potential danger and immediately flinched.“Sorry.”

“It is nothing,” you reply.It’s merely a side-effect of your lineage— and his too, you sometimes forget.“What is it?”

He doesn’t immediately reply.Instead he raises his arms so that interlaced fingers may act as a cushion to the back of his head, then cracks his knuckles, one by one.There’s popping noises where words should be.And when you glance over, raising an eyebrow, he makes a show of exhaling slowly.He’s still studying the way his chilled breath swirls like thin, ethereal smoke through the fabric of his mask, when he asks.“Why did you not correct him?”

“Correct who?” Your gaze flickers over for just a second.You tilt your head at him, then blink a few times in the face of the navigator’s display.It’s almost as if its omnic-eye blue is impeding on your ability to recollect, because you have no idea what could have needed drastic rectification.“Correct what?”

“Your cousin,” he says.He’s still staring straight ahead; but when there’s only silence in response, his face turns ever-so-slightly in your direction.“‘Hands to yourself, lover-boy?’Sound familiar?”

“Oh.Yes, that,” you sigh.You had kept your nose in the navigator for so long, you just now realize how such an interaction could have made the last expanse of silence more awkward than comfortable for Genji.“Sorry.I did not really want him to know about this situation—” _and how I am handling sensitive clan business with a Shimada of all outsiders,_ are your unspoken words— “so I thought it is best if he is under the impression that we left as a pair or something.”You start to laugh a bit at the thought of your cousin’s repulsion.“He would really leave us alone then, avoid us like the plague, even.Especially because of the ‘New Year’s Kiss’ tradition.”

“Right,” Genji replies, tone a bit absent-minded.“That is indeed a thing that happens.”

The two of you fall silent once more.The atmosphere is a bit stifling all of a sudden, and you’re not quite sure why.The only sounds are the near-silent footfalls of both your strides and the distinctive _tic-tic-blip_ — you should _really_ fix that, really— and you seem more intent on staring at the display than ever before.The cluster is in a distance of a mile and a half now.And even though the red diamond only blinks a few handfuls of times on the screen, the heavy quiet feels like forever before you pipe up again.

“On the topic of things my cousin said— I thought our fathers were joking,” you sigh.You do not like the idea of having your future set in stone.“They stopped mentioning… such an arrangement years ago.”

Despite your vague description, Genji seems to catch on immediately; although he does seem to falter, since before you had always been avoidant of the topic.“I would hope not, for your sake—” ( _and mine_ , are his unspoken words)— “But everything about our families is extremely conservative, remember?”

You simply respond with a sigh of disdainful agreement.You let the silence descend again, like a fog.And it’s like it manifests a little more each time you take a deep breath, with the miniature cloud that escapes your lips.The bright holographic blue starts to strain your eyes, while the _tic-tic-blip_ strains your patience.And every time you glance around for self-preservation’s sake, it feels as if Genji is keeping his dark amber gaze on anything but you.In the cold of an aged night you prod for the warmth of his irises.Instead your gaze is intent on the lifelessness of the blinking red, and you breathe out another chilled mist of silence as it nears the neon light cluster, closer, closer. 

“Genji,” you whisper, tapping his arm with the back of your hand.Dark amber darts towards you, then the display.If he had previously witnessed any signs of proximity, he makes no indication.The only scene in sight is that of what appears to be an abandoned manufacturing plant fenced off by a pathetic mass of chain-link.As the both of you approach, you gently kick at the _NO TRESPASSING_ sign that had long been ridiculed by the distinctive marks of graffiti both fresh and old. 

Without another word, Genji scales the fence and vaults over to the other side.He doesn’t make a sound.And after you shut off the navigator and follow suit, neither do you. 

He nods up towards the building behind you, and you both scale it with ease.From the new, elevated vantage point, your view drastically improves.The air is cooler, sharper, and it’s starting to bite like the heat-sapping parasite it is.You start to shiver; but you’re actually not sure how much of it is because of the cold and how much of it is because of the fear.Instinctively, you glance at Genji, once again yearning for the warmth of dark amber irises.After a moment, he meets your gaze hesitantly; and you feel the claws of calm and quiet anxiety sheathe, just a little.  You thumb on the switch of your navigator again; but this time you angle it so that its bright blue projects on the floor, and this time you flick it off quickly before its distinctive noise starts making itself noticeable.You point north— or, you point towards what you think is north, what it told you was north— and north leads you deeper and deeper still, into the heart of a dead factory.

The cement of the roof tops you cling onto are so cold you can feel the bite through the kevlar on your fingertips.You keep low, as the crescent moon casts long shadows onto the floor below.And when you notice that patrolling figures start to pop up more and more the farther in you travel, this vertical control becomes excruciatingly crucial.They’re barely visible as their clothing and the shadows blend into one— the only discernible identification is the constant, controlled movement.You inhale sharply at the glint that catches your eye.It’s the glint of an assault rifle— not yours, — but an assault rifle nonetheless.And with every movement of every shadow, more gunmetal shines under the lunar light. 

Genji whispers your name and beckons you over.His dark amber gaze is wrought with an intensity and anxiety that burns a hole into the pit of your stomach.You nod hesitantly; it takes what seems to be half an eternity for you to inch towards the edge of the roof where he’s pressed flush against the cold cement of the rooftop. As you approach, he shifts into a low lunge next to you. 

A gasp escapes your lips at what you see next.There are so many guards, more than you had even seen before in one place.And you had thought your father created high security measures at Taira Castle, but the numbers you had seen throughout your life did not even come close.From this vantage point, you couldn’t make out the emblems on their backs in this low light.Thus you cautiously lower your torso over the rusted roof top fire escape to get a better angle.You grit your teeth, powered by determination, and barely feel the strain of your weight on your arms.You want to know who you’re dealing with— who your _clan_ is dealing with. 

And from this new angle, you see that behind them are stacks and rows and columns of boxes and boxes and boxes— all of which are a distinctive gunmetal gray.It shines nicely under the lunar rays, and the second you can recognize the larger-than-life emblem on the surfaces, you shoot a frantic glance at Genji. 

“They are mine,” you breathe, eyes wide like the moon.Your hands clench at the rusted metal beneath them.You tap your nails against the aged railings six times, seven.You chew at your lip because one, you had not expected tracking to be this easy, to actually work; and two, you had never been able to imagine yourself entangled in a mess this dense.

But then there’s a deafening  _crack_ and next thing you know your instincts are screaming at you to move, act, get to cover and _not die,_ because you flinch at the huge burst of light at the edge of your vision.But you had winced and ruined the delicate nature of your precarious balancing act and you’re falling, but you’re not, because you abruptly hit a floor of rusted metal with a loud, resounding _thud_ and a yelp.   _I am going to die, I am going to die here, right here, right now_ , you internally scream.  Because that had been a gunshot, hadn’t it, that had been a gunshot and you’re out in the open like a goddamned idiot and your head is exposed and how can you _not_ die in such a position?  But once you finally build up the courage to open your eyes and look around, you see a thin trail of smoke and the sparkling of lingering fireworks above you.  And you feel stupid because of it.

There’s a moment of relief.But then you hear a yell that’s not yours, a yell that’s not Genji’s.The second you look down (you shouldn’t have looked down), the height renders you paralyzingly weightless; the deadly glint of gunmetal gray sends a cold shudder of adrenaline down your spine, into your lifelines, and you scream at your stupid muscles to move, move, _move_ , but the _click in the barrel_ freezes them in place and you can’t think straight.All that’s in your head are whispers upon whispers upon heart throbs that screech that _you’re going to die_ , and it’s so quietly deafening that you can’t remember telling your body to jump up and nimbly climb back onto the rooftop.Because the shadow is dead, you think— there had been the shriek of shurikens, Genji’s frantic yelling, more _cracks_ that should’ve made you flinch, but they had been drowned out by the overdrive of the monsters in your head.Some time between danger and dazed safety you remember seeing the guard fall, crumple like a ragdoll; and when your sentience awakens from the depths of adrenaline, Genji’s clutching at shurikens in a shaking hand, gazing at you with horrified eyes that are a million maelstroms of emotion at once.You can only nod numbly and move like you couldn’t when he murmurs the words of escape.

Because the _shadow is dead, that guard is dead_ and more are coming.Because you had torn your gaze away before you could see the red, because you had messed up.Because Genji’s target practice had paid off—

“You killed him,” you think you whisper as you hold his quivering form in your arms, words like death on a breath you don’t remember breathing.

“He was going to shoot you.”

And you can’t look him in the eye, because you know you’ll just find that same terrifyingly numbed look that’s in yours.You’ll just feel a lump in your throat at the thought that it had all been your fault, and the fact that he doesn’t blame you just makes it worse.You’ll just feel a stab of guilt.Because you can’t hide from Genji, and you would never dream to.And he can’t hide from you, he can’t hide that scar in his mind when he slips his blazer back onto his shoulders with a casual hollowness and a hollowed casualness; and you can’t hide the look on your face that always screams that there’s something you’re not saying.But he lets you hide, and so do you, because you don’t know how to fix it when the two of you sneak back into the celebratory clamor of Taira Castle like nothing’s wrong.Hanzo greets the two of you first with an expression that’s nigh unreadable, but betrays hints of concern; neither of you can hide from him, either, but he lets you.And you’re grateful. 

Because you don’t have the heart to answer to either of them.Because when the clock strikes zero, and you turn away from the neon-lighted night sky, you can only think about how the last firework you’d seen had lit up the shadows of the complex behind you— how that distinctive gunshot _crack_ had made you look back, back at the pool of guards rushing towards their fallen comrade. Because when he catches up with you, when this time you’re the quivering form in his arms— you don’t have the heart to tell him that you had to tear your gaze away from the brilliant, wine-red butterfly of your family’s crest on their kevlar-black backs.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**chikushou**_ : damn/damn it  
>  _ **kuso**_ : shit/damn  
>  _ **shinjimae**_ : drop dead/go to hell


End file.
